


Miscellany

by witheringpeachroses



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-02-28 14:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18757963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witheringpeachroses/pseuds/witheringpeachroses
Summary: a collection of Mingyu & Wonwoo oneshots.





	1. the Heartsmith of Anyang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based off a comic titled 'Heartsmith' by Miyuli (pls correct me if i'm wrong!)

He can hear it with every careful step he takes; the sound of cracked glass clinking against each other. Every beat stinging a little; sending quick and sharp pains reverberating across his chest. Wonwoo doesn’t know how long he’s let his heart be abused to this extent. He had always brushed it off, knowing--hoping, it would heal like normal hearts.

But Wonwoo’s heart isn’t a normal heart.

When he was born, the doctors had noticed how soft and fragile it was. A rare complication that occurred to newborns. His parents were devastated, willing to do anything for their firstborn, but the doctors couldn’t do anything but pray for little Wonwoo’s heart to harden and strengthen up itself.

It never did.

His heart healed, but it took thrice as long than a normal one. No matter how guarded and introverted he was; always hiding behind books and bumming in the library, he’s always managed to get his heart broken.

When he was 5, he had a neighbor who had just moved in. They spent their afternoons together and took care of each other. By the time he had turned 8, he was in love with him. But he had to return back home.

His first heartbreak had almost split his heart in half.

A shattered heart does not take away one’s life; it eradicates the capability to _feel_ \--to _love_ completely. But then again, what is life without love?

For the next 13 years, Wonwoo had no control over his emotions, no matter how hard he tried. His heart didn’t crack just from people around him. It ached and mourned over fictional characters in the books he’s buried his nose into. With a new book almost everyday, he hadn’t noticed how great of a damage his heart took until he woke up one day, feeling drained with chest pains.

He stands in front of the mirror, inching his shirt up his torso. He hated looking at his heart, seeing how pathetic and scratched up it was, but once the hem of his shirt reached his collarbones, his eyes widened in horror.

He’d never seen a heart in such bad condition, even in books or on television. Nestled on his chest was his heart, fractured nearly down the middle with uncountable hairline cracks that branched from it. It throbbed in slow beats with the palest pink glowing every time.

When he had gone to the doctor, he couldn’t do much about it except hold it together with gauze. It won’t last long, his doctor tells him, it should be replaced every day. Before Wonwoo could dejectedly walk out the clinic, his doctor stops him. He informs him about a family who uphold the diminishing practice of mending broken hearts--a family of heartsmiths. They live in Anyang and they could be of greater help to him than any modern doctors could.

With no time to lose, Wonwoo sets off on his own and travels to Anyang. The only difficult thing about the commute was holding his heart together with every bump in the road. When he arrives in the city, he stops at a public bathroom to replace the gauze.

“Who broke your heart so badly?” A stranger asks, catching a glimpse of Wonwoo’s bandaged heart before his shirt could hide it.

Now, Wonwoo can only ever think of his neighbor back then, but he can’t hold a grudge over someone who was unaware of what they had done.

“Sentimental.” He answers with a shrug, smoothing his shirt down.

“Off to see the heartsmith, perhaps? He’s a friend of mine and I can drop you off there; his house is on the way to mine..”

With much gratitude, he joins the stranger, named Minghao, in his small car. The ride wasn’t too long, but it was too quiet. Wonwoo had guessed Minghao wasn’t much of a talker like he was. When the kind stranger had dropped him off, he wishes him good luck before driving away.

The heartsmith’s home was a traditional wooden home, with a fence around the lot and a few shrubs growing about. A boy, around his age, steps outside of the quaint house with a paper bag in his arms. Their eyes meet and he smiles in surprise.

“Oh, hello there! What can I do for you?”

“I, uh,” Wonwoo’s hand instinctively went over his heart.

“I understand, come in. The gate is open, anyways.”

He nods at him, pushing it open with a loud creak. From behind the house, a series of barks erupt and within a few seconds, a dog comes running towards him. He steps back out the lot and closes the gate before it could reach him.

“Ya! Kamja-ah! He’s a guest, don’t scare him! Come here, I’ll feed you your lunch.” The boy yells, patting the paper bag that grabbed the attention of the pug. As he dumps the dog food into a dish by the door step, he looks over to Wonwoo. “Come back in now, he’s harmless, I swear.”

Hesitant, he pushes the gate open, but this time, the rusty squeak didn’t capture the dog’s attention. He slowly walks over to the boy, who patted his pet as it ate.

“Let’s go inside and see what I can do for you, okay?” He stands up and Wonwoo is surprised to see how much taller he was. “I’m Mingyu, the last heartsmith of Anyang.”

“I’m Wonwoo,” His eyes go around the house as he enters, seeing hearts hanging on the walls, some unscathed, some cracked or missing huge chunks. All in a dull grey color, which meant it was as good as dead. There were large tables where tools of varying sizes and shapes were laid out. “I’m from Changwon.”

“You’ve come a long way to mend that heart of yours.” Mingyu smiles at him, almost sadly. “May I see it?”

Wonwoo slips his hand under his shirt and winces as he takes his heart out, laying it out in front of Mingyu. He could see in the young heartsmith’s face the shock of seeing such a battered heart.

“You look like my age but your heart looks like it went through a lifetime of heartbreaks.”

Wonwoo explains his condition, his story, every detail he talk about that can relate to his heart. Mingyu, in return, listened attentively, with his hands folded in front of him. When Wonwoo was out of things to say, Mingyu frowns at him.

“I’ll do everything I can, but it will take a lot of time. You’ve come so far, there’s a spare room upstairs where you can rest and stay until I’ve fixed your heart.”

“That’s too much, I can find a hotel,”

“You can’t be separated too long from your heart. I won’t charge you for it.”

After a few more minutes of coaxing, Wonwoo relents and awkwardly exits the workroom to go upstairs.

He hadn’t realized his nap had morphed into deep slumber until the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread invades his senses. He sits up and stretches, pulling his shirt from the day before over his head before he trods downstairs and finds Mingyu seated at a small dining table.

“Good morning. I’ve made breakfast.”

“Good morning.” Wonwoo croaks back, his throat feeling parched.

“Coffee?” Mingyu offers, but Wonwoo shyly shakes his head.

“I-I don’t drink coffee, I prefer tea.” When he sees Mingyu move to stand up, he stops him, “It’s okay! I’ll make a cup for myself. Just tell me where is where.”

Once Wonwoo had joined him on the table with his cup of tea, Mingyu clears his throat.

“I spent all afternoon studying your heart and all night trying to figure out just what to do with it.” He starts, “It’s not _broken beyond repair_ , but there are vital parts missing from your heart that makes it harder for it to stay intact. Even if I am able to fix it, experiencing emotions won’t be the same.”

“So,” Wonwoo looks down at his cup of tea, pressing his palms to the warm surface of the yellow-stained china “I won’t be able to love? I guess it was nice to have experienced it at least _once_ in my life.”

The melancholic smile that graces Wonwoo’s face pierces through Mingyu’s chest.

“A-actually, there is one last option… One last thing _I_ can do so your heart will be as good as new.” He frowns a bit, “Well, I don’t think it’ll cure your condition, but at least you’ll be careful when I’ve fixed your heart, right?”

“Yes, of course! What is it?”

Mingyu’s cheeks warms up, but not enough for it to color too noticeably. “I still have to check my father’s files.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He smiles at him, “It’s fine, I’m used to working alone… May I ask a question regarding your first heartbreak?”

“What is it?”

“This boy… did he ever know? How you felt?”

Wonwoo blinks at him, a little surprised with the sudden inquiry. “No, I never told him. It was too late to tell him, since he had to leave.” He takes a sip from his cup, “Sometimes, even though it hurts, I remember him and wonder where he is… what’s he like…”

“If only he had knew, you wouldn’t have to go through this ordeal.”

“Even if he knew, what could we have possibly done? We were young, _too young_. How can we even know if he truly was my first love?”

Mingyu looks outside the window, watching the clouds loom over the horizon. “They say your first love is the one that had broken you the most.” He nods his head to Wonwoo’s chest. “It’s such a shame… what you had to go through, if he knew what he had done, he won’t be able to forgive himself.”

“But he doesn’t know, so I won’t hold it against him.”

Mingyu looks into Wonwoo’s eyes, seeing the emotions gradually fade in them. He had to work fast, and he had to work _now_. He excuses himself, rising from his seat and placing his mug in the sink.

Wonwoo tells him he’ll take care of the chores and Mingyu relents before locking the door behind him as he enters his workroom.

He had not stepped out of the room for a whole 15 hours, loudly telling Wonwoo that he’s fine when the latter would knock and ask how he was doing. He would dismiss him when he had offered lunch, afternoon snacks, and even water.

When Mingyu finally emerges from his workroom, catching Wonwoo heating up the food he had originally made during lunch for them to eat for dinner, he sighs with a smile. “I’m done.”

Wonwoo whips his head towards him; seeing Mingyu drenched in sweat, breathing shallowly, and eyes a little distant. “You are?!”

“It just needs to set. It’ll be ready in the morning.”

“You looks so tired. Sit down! I’ll prepare you a plate.”

Mingyu smiles to himself when Wonwoo rushes to retrieve a plate from the cupboard. He can already see his hard work paying off.

They eat dinner in peace, with occasional small talk between gulps of water. Wonwoo started to talk more and more while Mingyu grew quiet, but attentive to what the older was saying.

“Are you okay? You must be so drained to work for so long without a break. How could I ever repay you?”

“You don’t,” Mingyu breathes, “have to. It’s satisfying enough to be able to fix a heart as broken as yours. I hope you’ll be able to love the right one.”

“I promise. Let me help you to your room.” Wonwoo rushes to his side, letting Mingyu’s arm wrap around his shoulders as he hoists himself up.

“You don’t have to!”

“You can barely hold yourself up!” He scolds, “Please, it’s the least I can do.”

He guides him upstairs and they enter the room at the end of the hall. There was not a lot in MIngyu’s room; it was clean and tidy. Wonwoo helps him lie down and he sits beside him, finding himself staring at a photo on the nightstand.

“My relatives. I stayed with them for about 3 years when I was 4. I had to go back here because my dad passed away and we had to continue the business, even if I’m the last one to learn heartsmithing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I wish I had stayed back with my relatives though. I left a special friend there.”

Wonwoo looks at him, “Special friend?”

“I liked him a lot, no one was nice to the new kid, but he was. If I had stayed, maybe…” Mingyu sighs, voice thick with drowsiness, “Maybe, I would have fallen in love with him… and maybe we could have been.”

Wonwoo’s lips part to speak, but he sees Mingyu relax into the bed. “Go to sleep. I’ll clean up downstairs.”

He gets a light snore in response, eliciting a soft chuckle from Wonwoo. “Good night.” He bids, before quietly exiting the room.

The following morning, Mingyu woke up early, still not in his best condition, but put on a face to show Wonwoo he was fine. When Wonwoo had come down from upstairs, Mingyu leads him into the workroom where he presents him his heart, all fixed up. It wasn’t _as good as new_ ; the empty space in between now had been filled up with an extra chunk that had been melded in, leaving a bumpy, but smooth surface.

“I can clean it up a bit more, polish it off so it’s nice and smooth.”

“No, it’s perfect.” Wonwoo cups his heart with his hands and blinks in surprise, “It feels… different.”

“I’ve fortified it, so it can handle a little heart break from your novels.” Mingyu teased.

Wonwoo blushes, “Fortified with what?”

“Ah,” Mingyu boops his nose with a finger, “That’s a heartsmith’s secret.”

With utmost care, Wonwoo places his heart back into his chest and immediately feels the warmth ebbing from it. Mingyu had looked away for some odd reason, not wanting to seem like a perv when Wonwoo had lifted his shirt up.

“Thank you, Mingyu, really. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you? You’ve done so much.”

“And it was all worth it, trust me.”

In the next hour, they say their goodbyes to each other while waiting for the shuttle to pass by. It arrives not a moment too soon. Before Wonwoo steps inside, he turns around and engulfs Mingyu into a hug, catching the latter off guard. “I’ll never forget you, Mingyu. Thank you so much.”

Mingyu’s arms go around Wonwoo’s waist, “Take care, Wonwoo.”

He watches him board the mini-bus and waits for it to disappear into the horizon before trudging back inside his home.

“Are you okay?” He looks behind him and sees Minghao get off his bike and lets himself in.

“No, not really. Do you mind feeding Kamja for me?”

Minghao follows Mingyu inside the house and heads straight to the kitchen while the heartsmith stopped over his workstation--clearly exhausted from that short walk outside. His hand ghosts over his chest, summoning all his willpower not to touch it and cause anymore damage.

“What did you do?” Minghao’s voice scares him, making him jump away.

“Don’t do that! _Jesus Christ_.” But Mingyu doesn’t answer his question, so Minghao puts the dog food down and marches over to him, pushing Mingyu’s shirt up before the latter can react.

Mingyu’s heart was bandaged up almost completely, parts of his heart peeked through and showed a few cracks. It’s glow looking almost muted.

“ _You broke your heart to fix his?_ ” Minghao scolds, staring at him as if he had gone crazy.

The young heartsmith pushes him off and smooths his shirt down, looking away with guilt.

“It’s the least I can do,” He mumbles, “I was the one who broke it in the first place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt: [@8scoupsofjisoo](http://twitter.com/8scoupsofjisoo)


	2. Half Chickens & Iced Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Mingyu and Wonwoo go to their favorite restaurant and order the same thing every year on the same day.

 

It was tradition for them to eat out on their wedding anniversary. They would order half a chicken each in their favorite restaurant with their favorite house blend iced tea and begin digging in when the waiter places their order down. It was also tradition for Wonwoo to only eat half of the chicken, bashfully smiling up at Mingyu as he nudges his plate closer to him. Mingyu, in response, would roll his eyes and playfully scold him, but would still finish Wonwoo’s share after his own.

This happened every year and neither of them minded. It was, in fact, their tradition. Even the restaurant knew them already. The owner had noticed them coming in every year and befriended them. Now, every time they came back on the day of their wedding anniversary, they don’t even need to say their orders to the waiters.

On their 32nd anniversary, when both of them had strands of graying hair and a few fine lines etched on their faces, they go back to the same restaurant. Like always, they sit down and in a few minutes, the waiters serve up their usual order—half a chicken each with a glass of house blend iced tea.

“Oh, sorry, but can I have a glass of warm water instead?” Wonwoo quietly asks, catching both his husband and their waiter by surprise. “My throat is a little itchy.”

“Of course, sir.” The waiter turns on his heels and fetches him a glass.

Mingyu covers Wonwoo’s hand on the table, “Are you okay, dear?”

“Yes, I am. Don’t worry. Like I said, my throat is a little itchy.”

They share a smile and start to eat, Wonwoo eating only half of his chicken and Mingyu finishing it for him.

On their 39th anniversary, Wonwoo still orders water and forgets there’s a glass of iced tea for him.

Mingyu doesn’t mind.

On their 46th anniversary, Wonwoo barely touches his chicken.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“I had such a heavy breakfast, dear. I’m sorry. Maybe we can have this for dinner later.”

Mingyu casts him an unsure smile. “Okay.”

When Wonwoo wraps his utensils into the napkin, Mingyu lets his face fall into a concerned frown.

They didn’t have breakfast that morning.

On their golden anniversary, the owner of the restaurant pays for their meal and adds a few more side dishes and a dessert for them to share.

Mingyu noticed how overwhelmed Wonwoo was at the sight of so much food.

Wonwoo sees him looking and beams widely at him, “Happy anniversary, dear. Shall we eat?”

“Happy anniversary.” They lean into each other to share a quick peck before picking up their utensils and digging in.

And for the first time ever, Wonwoo had eaten more than 3 bites of his food—more so, he finished more than half.

Mingyu grinned at him, not noticing the sauce spilling on the corner of his mouth until Wonwoo looks over and chuckles, reaching over to wipe it with the pad of his thumb and swiping his tongue over the sweet sauce.

“We have a lot to eat, dear.”

“I know. I love you.”

There was fleeting look of hurt in Wonwoo’s eyes that Mingyu missed because Wonwoo recovers with a smile, “I know. I love you, too.”

The next anniversary, they didn’t show up. Or the next one after that. Or the next one after that. The owner of the restaurant had retired and left his business to his son. Most of the employees were new by the time an elderly walks in with a crutch in his hand to support his frame.

“Good afternoon, sir. Table for 1?” The new owner greets.

A sad smile graced the senior’s lips. “Yes, young man, just for one.”

He helps him to his table and was just about to hand him a menu, but the old man stops him. “2 half chickens with your house blend iced tea.”

“Okay, sir. It’ll be ready in awhile.”

The new owner watches him peacefully finish one and half the chicken he ordered and wipe his lips with a napkin. The elderly man calls for him and he prepares his take-out. He pays for his meal and sighs, closing his eyes.

As the new owner calls for a busboy to clean up, he clears his throat. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir. But may I ask how long you’ve been coming into this restaurant?”

His eyes open, weary but excited to recount his memories. He pats the seat beside him and the new owners sits down. He begins to tell him how he and his husband came here every year for their wedding anniversary, ordering the same thing every time. He even told him about how his husband would only finish half of his chicken and makes him finish the rest.

“The take-out is for him, then?” The new owner thanks the waiter that delivers the one-fourth of the chicken the elderly did not touch.

“Ah, yes. I’ll drop by the flower shop first before I go to the cemetery.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir.”

“Don’t be, young man, and please, do call me Mingyu.”

“Chan, sir.” He holds out his hand and they shortly shake each other’s.

“I should go now, thank you for the meal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was inspired by my own grandparents; they would go to this specific restaurant and order half chickens each, but my grandma could never finish hers so my grandpa would finish it for her or take it home. however, it was my grandpa who passed away first and for any celebration, not just their anniversary, we would take our grandma to the restaurant (franchise) and she would always tell us this story.
> 
> twt: [@8scoupsofjisoo](http://twitter.com/8scoupsofjisoo)


	3. you told me forever, but why is there an end?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based off an OPM song titled, Walang Hanggan by Quest.

Wonwoo had been reading the same sentence of the page he was on for the past 10 minutes already, he couldn’t seem to comprehend the line of the story—better yet he’s too distracted to even remember the first two words. Across him in their dorm’s living room, Mingyu sat back on the couch, sniggering at his phone. It wasn’t because Wonwoo was annoyed by it, but more of being _curious_ as to why he was so focused on his phone. He hated it—he was jealous of an _inanimate object._ It’s probably his fault why Mingyu stopped cuddling him when he read his books; he had snapped _once_ but it was enough to scare Mingyu off. But in all honesty, he was afraid to admit something had shifted between them. It was as if the formalities because of their age gap had strengthened and Mingyu had reduced himself back to calling him “hyung,” even though they had dropped the honorifics as soon as they bonded.

“Yes! There are seats left.” Mingyu exclaims all of a sudden, making Wonwoo flinch from where we was seated. He didn’t seem to notice this as he gets up from the couch and makes his way out.

“Ah—Mingyu-ah…” Wonwoo blurts out, halting Mingyu from turning the corner. “W-where are you heading off to?”

“The movie I’ve been waiting for premieres tonight and I was able to get two tickets for it.”

Wonwoo sits up a bit, looking for the bookmark around him. He remembered Mingyu talking about that movie for months now and he vaguely remembers being asked to join him when it does come out. He spies the bookmark Mingyu had made him—the one with a doodle of his face (when Wonwoo had questioned how that even looked like him, Mingyu had pointed out the canines on the doodle and forcibly grinned at him) and had a bright red string that Mingyu had difficulty in braiding—on the floor by his house slippers. Just as he reaches down, Mingyu’s next words stop him.

“The performance team had just ended their recording so I’ll be meeting up with The8 at the cinema.”

Time stopped for Wonwoo. _What?_

“I know I asked you before, but you seem to be immersed in your book and I know you don’t want to be bothered while you read so I asked Hao instead.”

_I do hate being bothered while reading… but I never minded when you did._

“We promise to be back before midnight. See you later, hyung!”

Something cracked the second he hears the front door close, but Wonwoo wasn’t sure if it was the corner of his hardbound book hitting the polished, wooden floor or the fine lines that marred his heart, which he had desperately stuck together with false optimism, finally splintering into pieces.

 

 

 

They were practicing for their concerts while filming a behind-the-scenes footage for a special DVD. They were sweating and fatigue was setting into their muscles, but it only took a joke from Seungkwan to lighten up the mood. They wearily smile at the cameras, waving to show their fans they’re fine. The camera pans to Wonwoo while he was randomly saying what he wanted to eat for dinner and at the same time, Mingyu engulfs him into a bear hug that locked his arms to his sides. Suddenly shy from the skinship, he tries to pry himself away but he only ended up in the same hug but with his back to Mingyu’s chest. He remembered them laughing at each other, but there was a nagging voice in the back of Wonwoo’s head.

_This is for the fans._

 

 

 

There was no doubt in Wonwoo’s mind that he and Mingyu had officially drifted apart. When they had filmed One Fine Day in Japan, he was hoping he could reconnect with him but since they were in opposing teams that was nearly impossible.

“Wonwoo, here, let me put the mud on you.” Joshua laughs, taking a dollop on his fingers and swiping them on Wonwoo’s cheeks.

The mud was cold and it tickled him but his laughter dies soon when memories flood into his mind.

He remembered a time before they debuted, they were playing around with paint in the practice room. Mingyu had reached over and smeared some onto his cheek. That had sparked a paint war between them, patting their colorful palms on each other’s body. There were 15 other people in the room, but it felt like they were the only ones there.

Another memory was during a photoshoot, Mingyu had wiped some of the whipped cream on Wonwoo’s cheeks as the external flashes connected to the photographer’s camera went off. He remembers lightheartedly scolding him for it, but Mingyu only answered with a flash of his grin.

The memories cause him to recoil away from Joshua, who was startled at his reaction.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I’ll take it from here, hyung.”

 

 

 

Their company gives them their well deserved month long vacation. The members are going back to their families for the time being—with the exception of one.

“You’re not going home to your grandparents?” Wonwoo stops forcing the gift he plans to give his brother into his bag.

“I will… in two weeks. The8’s family invited me over.”

“The8’s family… in _China_.”

Mingyu nods, “Yeah. I talked to my grandmother about it already and she’s fine with it.”

Wonwoo hums, looking back down at his bag and at the gift. He knew how much Mingyu missed his family so he didn’t think about inviting over but then again, a two-hour flight to Beijing beats a three-hour train ride to Changwon for a vacation.

“We’ll be taking a head start. Our flight is in at 3.” Mingyu glances at the wall clock just in time to see the hour and minute hands click in place to tell them it was exactly 1 PM. “See you in a month, hyung. Can’t wait to hear that rap you’re working on.” He zips his suitcase close and pops the handle out.

“M-Mingyu…” He stutters out in a soft voice when Mingyu starts to roll his suitcase out of the room.

The taller boy looks back at him, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

In his head, the lyrics he’s been desperately trying to coin together clicks. “H-have fun. Y-you and The8.”

He smirks at him, putting his suitcase to the side before stalking up to Wonwoo and (effortlessly) jammed Bohyuk’s gift inside Wonwoo’s bags and zips it up. “You too, hyung.”

“Thanks…” His gratitude was masked by The8’s yelling, asking Mingyu to hurry his butt over.

Without another word, Mingyu exits the room and left Wonwoo alone in their room. It occurs to him that when they all come back, they’d probably assign new roommates.

Woozi passes by the open door and pauses, “Are we riding the train together, Wonwoo?”

He slowly shakes his head, “No, you go ahead. I’ll stay another night here.”

“Suit yourself.” He walks out of view and Wonwoo pushes his bag off the bed before he lies down with an arm covering his eyes.

He could hear his heart beating out of his chest, slow and almost painful.

_You told me forever, but why is there an end._

Usually, when he’s overcome with the inspiration to write lyrics, he’d immediately write it down on paper or type it down his phone. But the words he came up with were too close to home, the mere gist of what the song is about already cutting him open. He peers at the door, still wide open, still seeing Mingyu’s back slowly moving away from him.

_If I lose you,_

_Listen to my last wish_

_Just look back from time to time_

_I’ll stay right here, I won’t leave_

_Where we ended— I won’t leave…_

He can faintly hear Mingyu and The8 screaming out their goodbyes before they head off to the airport and some of the other members wishing them well.

_I won’t leave._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt: [@8scoupsofjisoo](http://twitter.com/8scoupsofjisoo)


	4. Bouquet Toss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in a tipsy Wonwoo dares Mingyu to join the bouquet toss with an incentive Mingyu simply cannot refuse.

Maybe it was because he was on his sixth flute of champagne or maybe it was he was lowkey jealous of Doogi finally getting married, but Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from daring Mingyu to join the bouquet toss.

“Wonwoo, you’re drunk.” The younger takes the empty glass away from him and places it on the tray of the passing waiter.

“I am not.” He crosses his arms, “You’re just jealous that you can’t drink because you’re the designated driver.”

Mingyu sighs, “Whatever, I’m still not joining the bouquet toss.”

The host announces once more for the hopeful bachelorettes to gather on the dance floor for the ceremonial bouquet toss and make them believe that whoever catches it is next to be wed. Mingyu finds it hilarious.

“Go join.” Wonwoo coaxes, nudging the taller boy closer.

“No. Stop. How about we raid the food table?”

“Oh! Good idea!” Wonwoo chirps, clumsily turning on his feet. He hears the voices of the ladies gathered, the host, and the bride all counting down for the toss, making him chuckle. “They’re so cute. I would have married you if you caught the bouquet.”

**_“OUT OF MY WAY. THAT BOUQUET IS MINE.”_ **

Wonwoo snaps his head at the source of the declaration. He spots Mingyu running towards the dance floor, pushing people out of his way. “Oh my god.” The alcohol buzz in his system were instantly drained and replaced with embarrassment and dread.

The bride, with her back turned, throws the bouquet behind her. The ladies squeal as they stretch their arms upwards in hopes to catch the bundle of flowers, but before it was even a foot close to their eager hands, Mingyu’s greedy ones clutch around them.

 

_“Hey!”_

_“What the hell?!”_

_“That’s not fair!”_

 

“Sorry, but I caught it, rules are rules, thIS BOUQUET IS MINE, HA!” Mingyu extends his arm up so they couldn’t steal it away from them.

Wonwoo groans, hiding his face in his hands as he slowly turns his back away from the scene. What has he done? He can hear the commotion still going on and the host trying to mediate the situation. Minutes later, he feels a presence beside him.

“Look, hyung, look! I got the bouquet.”

He peeks out of his hands. “I was _joking_ , Mingyu—yOU HAVE SCRATCHES ON YOUR FACE?!”

“Those smol bitches think they can steal it away from me.” Mingyu grumbles under his breath before grinning back up at him. “This means you’ll marry me, right?”

Wonwoo laughs out loud, shaking his head in disbelief. “I would have married you if you had just asked me to.”

“Oh… well, I went through the trouble of getting this and probably hated by the women in this room for doing so.” Mingyu hands him the bouquet and kisses his cheek, catching Wonwoo off guard.

“S-so,” He clears his throat, “What did you guys do with the garter thing?”

“What?”

“…the garter on the bride’s thigh? The groom is supposed to take it off and put it on the person who got the bouquet.”

They blink at each other for awhile until Doogi comes up behind them and places a rueful hand on Mingyu’s shoulder.

“Aish, Mingyu, why did you have to do that? How are we supposed to do this now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt: [@8scoupsofjisoo](http://twitter.com/8scoupsofjisoo)


	5. Strip Jenga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mingyu just wanted to know how the hell Wonwoo had abs

It was a harmless plot to get his best friend (who he may not have been crushing on since the beginning of forever) naked, but things weren’t looking so great for Mingyu. If it wasn’t for that one time during PE class, when some weird force of nature decided to flip Wonwoo’s shirt up to reveal just a sliver of his abdomen while he was shooting from the three-point line, Mingyu’s curiosity wouldn’t have been sparked.

He had never seen him work out, let alone exercise. Mingyu always finds Wonwoo either munching on a snack, splayed on their couch while watching television, reading a book, or most of the time, all of the above. Wonwoo was thin, that was a given fact. Mingyu witnessed him chow down dishes after dishes when they’ve saved enough for a buffet to celebrate the end of their finals, yet he hasn’t gained weight to the naked eye.

Mingyu had suspected that despite the slim stature, Wonwoo was sporting a pot belly under the oversized dress shirts or sweaters he opted to wear. He doubted the existence of hard muscle on Wonwoo’s abdomen, but when his eyes caught the slightest bit of defined muscle during their mock basketball game, he was curious, to say the least.

How on earth does Jeon Wonwoo have abs?

 

He had schemed plenty of times to see him shirtless, from trying to catch him change at the locker room, to pretending not knowing he was in their dorm bathroom, showering. But it was always too foggy from the shower’s steam in the locker room to even see 5 inches from your face and Wonwoo was somehow always quick to freshen up after PE classes. In their dorm, Wonwoo had always brought his clothes with him and locked the bathroom door when he was using it. When Mingyu had jokingly pointed it out, Wonwoo explains an incident when he was younger that a female friend of his brother’s had mistakenly entered their shared bathroom while he was getting out of the shower. The habit of locking the bathroom door had stuck with him up until now.

Mingyu was starting to think he had no other opportunity to see his best friend shirtless until one lazy Friday night.

  
  


They were lounging about their dorm room. Mingyu had been playing with his phone while Wonwoo was flipping through the channels on the television. They decided against going to the party they heard along the hallway that was happening not too far away from their dorm. They had their own six-packs in the mini fridge and plenty of board games they can turn into some drinking game if they felt like it.

And for Wonwoo, he felt just that.

“Hey, I’m bored.” He throws a cushion at Mingyu, who ignores it despite being hit right on the face.

“No shit, Won.”

“Jihoon left a bunch of his board games here, do you want to play with some?”

Mingyu snorts, “How old are you? 10?”

“10 year olds don’t play shots and ladders, Mingyu.”

With that, he relents, volunteering to grab 2 six-packs from the fridge while Wonwoo takes out the few board games from under the table.

Shots and Ladders was honestly just something Wonwoo came up with to coax Mingyu into playing, but they stuck with it. The rules were the same, except if a player lands on a snake, they would have to take a shot or in their case, a gulp of beer.

Wonwoo was the first to land on a snake, not only losing the 56 spaces he had easily climbed up to but had to deal with Mingyu’s childish taunts. With a grunt, he drags his piece down to where the snake’s tail was and throws his head back, filling his mouth with as much as beer as he can hold before swallowing it down.

“If this keeps up, you’ll be drunk before me.” Mingyu chortles, rolling the dice. But when it stops at a 5 and they both realize he’ll be landing on a snake, Wonwoo snorts.

“We’ll see about that.” He raises his beer can in a mock toast.

They had exhausted at least 2 cans each to finish the push-and-pull game of Shots and Ladders, with Wonwoo winning by 3 spaces.

“Next game.” Mingyu demands after he finishes his beer as punishment, pouting like a baby as he reaches over the pile of games by Wonwoo. He retrieves Ticket to Ride and he smugly grins at Wonwoo, “Shots to Ride! A shot to the other player when someone is able to complete a route aaaand,” He sings, “Loser has to down one full can.”

“Call.” Wonwoo quickly removes the previous board game and helps Mingyu set up the new one.

Unlike the previous game, they fill in the silence of the match with random chatter, especially since their system’s are being invaded by alcohol.

Wonwoo was first to complete one route and while Mingyu begrudgingly gulps his beer, he suddenly thanks him for being his friend.

“Where is this coming from? Wow, alcohol really does make you say things.” Mingyu laughs, taking the two red train cards on the side of the table and replacing them with two new ones from the deck.

“Drunk or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve stuck with me through thick and thin. Most people would have probably left me.”

Mingyu watches as Wonwoo draws two cards from the deck. “I’m not like most people, if you haven’t realized. I would never leave you for whatever reason.”

“I’m just so… socially awkward sometimes. I prefer books over people. I just want to be alone and be isolated. I push people away--I push you away. But you’re still here.”

“I’m still here.” Mingyu half-smiles, just showing off a part of his canines.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He pauses, “Nothing is wrong with you, Wonwoo. You’re being you, and I can’t have you any other way.”

Wonwoo grins at him, “Honestly, Mingyu, I really love you.”

Mingyu knew he meant that in a friendly, platonic way, but his cheeks still burn and his heart speeds up. Pretending to scoff, he discards 6 of the red train cards from his hand and proceeds to line the red train pieces on the track that completes one of his routes. “Yeah, and I love you, too.”

Wonwoo drinks without protest and they continue to play the game, albeit becoming drunker as the minutes pass by.

With probably the longest Ticket to Ride they’ve ever played, challenging themselves to complete as much as the available and possible routes on the board, Mingyu wins by a landslide.

“Bottoms up! Bottoms up!” He chants, opening a fresh beer can for Wonwoo, and continues to do so as his best friend downs the drink.

That was the last of the beer from the dozen they have taken out of the fridge and Wonwoo was shitfaced drunk.

“I’m gonna have the worst hangover tomorrow.”

“Should we call it a night?” Mingyu laughs, lazily putting Ticket to Ride back into its box. He was just as drunk, but he had better tolerance for alcohol than Wonwoo.

“But I still want to play.” He whines, throwing his body over the table and dragging his hand over the pile of untouched board games.

“We’re not playing drinking games anymore. We might end up puking all over these and Jihoon will have our heads on his wall.”

“Fine.” Wonwoo groans, “Let’s wager something else.” His eyes light up when he spies a box peeking out from the rest.

“Like what?”

Wonwoo springs up (which was a bad idea, now that all the blood from his head is rushing down) “Our clothes.” He confidently smiles, “Let’s play Strip Jenga.”

Every alcohol-induced buzzing sensation in Mingyu stops simultaneously at the realization of what Wonwoo had suggested.

“First to be buck naked loses, and I’m guessing 3 rounds since we’re both in shirts and boxer shorts--wait, you don’t wear underwear at home, right?”

The flood of red heat across Mingyu’s face was enough of an answer. “Then don’t lose.” Wonwoo laughs, taking the game out of its box. “I’ll let you go first.”

They set the game up on the floor to make things a bit harder for both of them.

The first few sticks were easy to choose and remove without a chance of having the tower topple over. Wonwoo played carelessly, but Mingyu was taking this game very seriously.

Not because he is one clothing article short of Wonwoo, but this was his golden opportunity to see if Wonwoo really did have abs. He was almost disgusted with himself with how desperate he was to find out. Why was he so curious anyway? If anybody else was as curious as him, they would have probably just grabbed the end of Wonwoo’s shirt and pull it up to kill the suspense. But Mingyu wouldn’t do that. He respected Wonwoo’s introverted and reserved personality. It’s one among many things he had loved about him.

His finger slips and sends the stack falling over.

“Ha! Your shirt goes!” Wonwoo drunk-happily claps his hands before gathering the pieces and stacking them up again.

Mingyu blinks at him, did he just admitted to himself that he was in love with Wonwoo?

Without another second to spare, he shrugs his shirt off and pouts, waiting for Wonwoo to finish.

No, he couldn’t have just admitted it. Just like Wonwoo had earlier, he was just stating his platonic feelings, right?

When Wonwoo finishes, he grins at Mingyu. “You go first again.”

Mingyu gulps.

He shakes his head with the nonsense notion of being in love with Wonwoo and makes his first move.

The tower had wobbled while Wonwoo was making his tenth move and Mingyu had almost rejoiced too early, but the tower had steadied itself as Wonwoo slip the stick out. It didn’t surprise Mingyu when his move had caused the tower to collapse.

“You lose~ Now strip the boxers, Kim!”

Mingyu frowns, dragging his feet so he could stand up and feels the smooth slide of his feet against the polished floor. “Wait! I’m wearing socks!”

Wonwoo’s eyes fall down the flying pig-patterned blue socks on his feet with an unamused expression, “Fine. But they’ll be your last hope. Boxers still have to go.”

Bashfully, but hurriedly, Mingyu strips his shorts off and cups his crotch.

“Dude, we both have dicks.”

“Shut up. Stack them up already.”

“I’ve been stacking them. You do it.” He teases with a lazy smile.

“Wonwoo!”

He laughs, “Okay, fine.”

When the tower is complete once more, Mingyu gives the first move to Wonwoo, grumbling how being first is bad luck. “I’m gonna win this time.” He mutters under his breath, but Wonwoo still catches it anyway, making him chuckle.

They both took their time strategizing their move and executing it, both careful with prodding the stick out of under the stack above it. And just when Mingyu had a clear move, the tower betrays him and topples over his hand before he could even retract it.

He hisses a curse, glaring at his socks.

“This isn’t your game, Mingyu.” Wonwoo lightly chuckles, sweeping the Jenga pieces to the side.

“Tell me about it.” He rolls his eyes, still glaring at his socks as he uses one hand to tug them off.

“Mingyu.” Wonwoo sighs, stretching his neck. “If you wanted to see me naked, you could have just told me.”

The statement causes Mingyu to snap his eyes to meet Wonwoo’s unusually dark and clouded ones.

“I’d strip for you if you just tell me to do so.” Wonwoo kneels on both legs.

“What are you talking…” He trails off when Wonwoo pulls his shirt off and suddenly, Mingyu’s mouth is dry.

He was right about Wonwoo being slim, bony even, but there was no pot belly--not even close and quite the exact opposite. He had a firm, flat chest and Mingyu doesn’t really want to comment on his nipples but they were so pink and he guesses because of the air conditioning, they had pebbled up. His eyes fall down to two, four, six pack abs that were clearly defined and he was sure that was what girls called “chocolate abs.”

“How do you even… You don’t even…”

“Genetics. Got my fast metabolism from my mom’s side and my dad comes from a family of athletes. I don’t have to work out, but proper diet and exercise is enough.”

“You eat like a pig and can stay on the couch without moving for a days.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, “I jog early in the morning when you’re asleep and do cardio during my long breaks while you have classes.”

Mingyu opens his mouth to retaliate but he closes it to stare at Wonwoo, the same shade of blush from earlier creeping across his cheeks.

“Let me help you with that, Gyu.” Wonwoo whispers.

“With what?” Mingyu swallows his saliva.

His best friend smirks at him before crawling over and putting a hand over his that had desperately hid his groin.

“This.” He quietly says, eyeing Mingyu’s erection before glancing back up at him, “Can I?”

All words had left Mingyu at the thought of his best friend going down on him and he had only managed to nod his head in stunned approval.

With one wicked grin, a swipe of tongue against pink lips, and a trail of kisses going down, down, down and further down Mingyu’s torso, both of them are glad they ended up playing Strip Jenga.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt: [@8scoupsofjisoo](http://twitter.com/8scoupsofjisoo)


End file.
